


A Little Flirtation

by Cuzosu



Series: Flirt like Wine (Better with Age) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 19:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12539472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuzosu/pseuds/Cuzosu
Summary: Life twists and turns as Obi-Wan learns to use flirtation as a distraction in combat.





	A Little Flirtation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norcumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/gifts).



> Cuzosu to norcumi: Sooo, here I am, plotting SW fic ideas before I've even gone back through ANY canon material, and...have you ever thought, "Hey, Obi-Wan flirts with basically everybody when he fights. Did he ever do this to Qui-Gon? And where, exactly, did he learn this?"  
> norcumi replied: ......I had not, but WOW that is glorious and I desperately want to see it.
> 
> Long story short, I offered her free use of the idea, but it wouldn't leave me alone, so here's my version.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to anything Star Wars; we don't even own copies of the movies yet. And I believe it's pretty clear that I'm not making money from this, however much the story has made multiple people laugh.

He learned it on Mandalore, along with several other incredibly valuable discoveries.

In the middle of combat, he learned that Satine had fallacies he disagreed with—and that he was bi. Stranger things have happened when an enemy thought one was flirting with them, he supposed, and it wasn't like the fellow wasn't attractive.... But an enemy was an enemy, so he dispatched the unlucky soul and kept going.

Parting with Satine was bittersweet; he cared deeply for her, yet there was a part of him that breathed freer apart, as though she stifled his full capabilities.

Obi-Wan took the kernel of an idea formed on Mandalore to the practice rooms in the dojo, where he quite cheerfully practiced his, ah, _diplomacy_ on his peers. Fellow padawans grew to loathe setting foot in the ring with him. It might have been a blessing in disguise, however, as it forced him to fight more with knights.

 

 

The year Tahl died, neither Qui-Gon nor Obi-Wan felt much like flirting, so rumors never reached the master's ears of how inappropriate many felt his behavior in combat could be. Most of the temple forgot Kenobi had ever so much as delved into flirting at all.

Except, of course, for those he counted friends; Vos and Tachi never doubted that someday, he'd be back to his old tricks and driving the Order to distraction.

 

 

It was no surprise that Obi-Wan recovered from the loss quicker, as he'd been less attached to Master Tahl, yet the truth of it was, he merely was more adept at putting aside the shattering depths of emotional pain than his master. Perhaps it was affected by the humor others often dubbed Dark when he fought, but finally, things came to light.

Quinlan Vos was in the ring, sparring and flirting with great relish. Qui-Gon expected his padawan to be flustered or, at best, stoic...not to turn the tables on the older male until Vos' obvious appreciation lost him the bout.

Flushed with triumph and laughter, Obi-Wan delivered the deciding strike with a deft hand, sliding through a moment's break in defense. “Letting your guard down, Quin?” he teased. “We'll have to make it a bet next time: winner takes top.”

Laughing in his opponent's face wasn't exactly the diplomatic thing to do, but if Quinlan knew one thing about the younger man, it was that he wouldn't push past his partner's comfort levels without express and continuing permission. “Kriff you, Kenobi,” was his amused rejoinder.

Neither noticed Jinn's scandalized expression when the padawan waggled his brows cheerfully at the knight. “You know you enjoy it, Vos,” Obi-Wan purred, eyes glinting wickedly.

Strangling the noise that wanted to erupt from his mouth, Qui-Gon Jinn left them to their flirtation.

 

 

The next bout he walked in on was against Siri Tachi, who evidently took great delight in making her opponents work so hard it hurt.

Obi-Wan groaned over a strained muscle, but it didn't sound like a pained noise; it sounded as if he was, ahem, _enjoying_ himself there in public. Qui-Gon closed his eyes and prayed to the Force—for help or forgetfulness, he wasn't sure which.

For her part, Siri seemed to preen a bit more, show off what flesh was available, and only just barely lost the match when her attempts at distraction didn't quite succeed.

Funny; last Jinn knew, his padawan had been practically the definition of a blushing virgin.

 

 

Jinn walked in on another three such instances in the next month, one witnessed by a grinning master whom Obi-Wan flirted with almost as much as he did his actual opponent. Concerned, Qui-Gon resolved to speak with his padawan. It started out with predictable awkwardness.

“I feel,” the Jedi master began, after a weighted and vaguely conflicted pause, “like you are not treating relationships—potentially dangerous attachments—with the respect they deserve.”

Obi-Wan puzzled over this. “I'm afraid you've lost me, Master.”

“You flirt when sparring, Padawan,” chided Qui-Gon. “And with more than just those you spar with.”

A blank look froze on the younger man's face for a moment. “...ah,” he managed eventually. Then he rallied. “I'm afraid you're mistaken, Master; that is me utilizing a distraction technique I started on Mandalore.”

One brow rose dauntingly. “And I have not witnessed this why?”

That sobered the mood quickly. “Tahl. And the fact that I'm still working on the technique, Master.”

In an effort to get the conversation back on track and divert their darkening emotions, Qui-Gon told his padawan, “I see. I would appreciate a courtesy warning before you use it in the field, however.”

Slow mischief lit Kenobi's eyes from within. “Very well, Master. Spar with me tomorrow?”

Force, what had he gotten himself into? “If you attempt it on me, Padawan, I may well turn you over my knee.”

Wicked humor colored their bond. “Oh, but Master, I might _enjoy_ that!” And he neatly defused any insinuations of reverting to childhood with one filthy innuendo.

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan sashay out the door, flirting with body language and movement as adroitly as he'd proven to with words, and felt a sensation much akin to impending doom from the Force.

_And the Council uses me as a diplomat,_ he mused, wry and worried about the near future. _It must be a good thing none of the ones I tend to mediate for know me, because I can't say I handled this latest confrontation well._ Of course, the one who'd just bested him in a bout of wordplay was not only his student, but also his mission partner...and Obi-Wan excelled at using the distractions around him to his advantage. Qui-Gon remained undecided on whether he was proud or kicking himself for teaching the youth so well.

 

 

 

Mace eyed his friend and fellow Jedi Master with no little amusement.

“Quit laughing at me,” groused the long-haired man.

“It's been at least half a decade since I've seen you get this flustered over _anyone's_ antics, Qui-Gon,” countered the Councilor. “You'd be laughing if I was the one in your position, too.” And he brought his cup to his lips to hide exactly how wide his smile had become.

“Damn it, Mace!”

Windu burst out laughing. “Ah, _justice_...! After all these years you've made it your favorite hobby to drive me insane and leave me flailing with no other choice but to do as you've laid out.... _Comeuppance!_ And in the form of your own student!”

Blue eyes narrowed. “Why are we friends, again?”

“Because,” Mace informed Qui-Gon, chuckling, “I'm not the type to go running for your lineage elders; you'd never live it down and I'd never hear the end of it from Yoda.” _And no one should have to deal with Dooku over something like this. Unless...._ “Come to think of it, though, if Kenobi's that good at mixing fighting and flirting, next time Dooku pisses one of us off, maybe we should sic your padawan on his grandmaster?”

Qui-Gon choked on a breath, gasped, and then _howled_ with laughter. Yes, there were reasons he and Mace were friends...not least of which was their kindred sense of humor.

 

 

 

As it happened, Dooku dropped by at a moment's notice; the first thing anyone knew of his intended arrival, he was striding through the halls to harass the Council. After that, he informed his former student that he would be seeing how well his grandpadawan had learned to fight while he was in Temple.

Qui-Gon released a wave of frustration to the Force, met Mace's eyes over the older master's shoulder, and volunteered, “I had planned to test him two hours after lunch, if that works for you?”

Master Windu took himself off while he could still maintain his public dignity.

“If you don't mind,” agreed the stern-faced elder, “that would do nicely.”

It was only Jinn's annoyance at the presumption and arrogance that allowed him to maintain a somber air as they parted ways. He was still fuming slightly as he entered the chambers he shared with Obi-Wan. “Padawan,” he bit out, “there's been a change of plans.”

Obi-Wan paused in the act of depositing his lunch plate on the table. “Oh?”

“Your grandmaster wishes to test you, instead.”

The younger male pondered the words and his master for a long moment. His brow quirked, mouth tilting up slightly at one corner. “You didn't tell him what I was being tested on?”

Jinn's effort to hide an angry smirk was rather see-through to one who knew him well. “He intends to test your combative skills.”

“No, you certainly did not inform him of the slight, ah, addition to this test, Master,” noted the padawan. Amusement sang in the Force, soothing the sharp edges of temper.

Qui-Gon considered his student. “Dooku is one of the best combat Jedi the Order has. If you succeed in catching him off guard at least once with your...alternative skill, shall we call it?...then I suppose I shall just have to get used to your newest quirk.”

“Well, I always did like a challenge in my favorite lessons,” laughed the younger man.

Such easy acceptance of what was perhaps more conniving and rude than Dooku deserved lightened Jinn's mood the rest of the way. “Good.” He smiled, then gestured to the plate on the table. “I don't suppose you left any for your poor master?”

“Should I ask Master Yoda or Master Windu if you deserve it today, Master?” He ducked the playful swat at his head and laughed again.

“Imp.” Despite the chiding, amusement underscored the word.

Obi-Wan laughed again, bright and easy, and gestured at the kitchen. “Help yourself. I was waiting for it to cool before putting it away.”

They shared a companionable meal and went on to talk over homework and potential missions until they needed to head down to the training salle.

 

 

 

Yoda eyed the normally taciturn Jedi sitting with him. Mace broadcast bursts of amusement into the Force, not so much trying to hide as fighting valiantly not to be so entertained as he clearly was. “Share, will you?” the older master asked.

Another flare of amusement. “Dooku insisted on assessing his grandpadawan's combat capability. Jinn offered his own slot for this afternoon.”

Large ears twitched attentively. “Cause for amusement, this is?”

Mace lost the battle and smiled. “I know what the training session was scheduled to assess.”

Yoda hummed thoughtfully. “Good to have, old friends are. See this, we should.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
